


Succinct, Persuasive

by orphan_account



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-25
Updated: 2015-10-25
Packaged: 2018-04-28 03:12:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5075590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hamilton visits Burr in the middle of the night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Succinct, Persuasive

“Aaron Burr, sir.”

“Hamilton, it’s the middle of the night.”

“Yes,” Hamilton responds quickly. Hamilton looks down, and Burr sees him shuffling his feet.

“Do you need something?”

“Can I come in?”

Burr raises his eyebrows and steps aside, but Hamilton isn’t looking at him. They stay like that until Hamilton finally looks back up at him, stepping carefully through the door.

Then all of a sudden Hamilton starts talking, before he even sits down. His words fall awkwardly out of his mouth and his hands are shaking in his lap as he explains the constitution and his plan to defend it.

It feels like a good hour before he’s done, finishing with, “And I’d like you to help.”

Burr’s sure to look Hamilton in the eye as he says, slowly and deliberately, “No way.”

Hamilton jumps to his feet. “We need you,” he says, holding eye contact with Burr and not blinking. Burr wishes he had never seen those eyes.

“Good night, Hamilton,” Burr says as he stands up, but he has to look away from Hamilton’s eyes to hold his voice steady.

Hamilton scrambles forward a few feet. “What if I convinced you?”

“Nothing you’ve already said has convinced me.”

“I didn’t mean,” Hamilton says, and his voice falters. Burr can’t stop himself from looking back at Hamilton’s face.

Before Burr can ask Hamilton what he did mean, Hamilton closes the rest of the distance between them and sinks to his knees.

“Hamilton, get up,” Burr says steadily, clenching his hands into fists to stop them from fidgeting the way Hamilton’s had earlier. But Hamilton doesn’t stand; he stays there on his knees, not looking up at Burr but staring into his crotch. Burr watches Hamilton’s hands come up to unbutton his pants, and the movements are fluid and graceful now. Hamilton’s hands aren’t shaking anymore. Burr’s, however…

He’s so startled by this that by the time he comes to, Hamilton has already pulled down Burr’s pants and freed his cock. He watches as Hamilton holds it tenderly in one hand, his mouth open and only inches away.

Burr feels his eyes shoot wide open, and he grabs a fistful of Hamilton’s hair and pulls him back, jerking his hand down to force Hamilton’s head up. He knows immediately it’s a mistake; Hamilton’s eyes look up at him, and Burr just stares back for a moment before remembering himself.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Burr says after he forces himself to look away from Hamilton’s eyes. He tries to pick a less damning part of his face -- his nose maybe. But right below that is Hamilton’s mouth, Hamilton’s mouth that never stopped the same way his hands never did, the same way his brain never did --

“We need you,” Hamilton repeats, “We need the Constitution and we need you to defend it.”

Burr doesn’t feel himself slacken his grip in Hamilton’s hair, but he must have; Hamilton has leaned forward and wrapped his mouth around the tip of Burr’s cock. He feels Hamilton’s arms on the back of his thighs and Burr keeps his hand in Hamilton’s hair, unsure of what else to do with it.

He knows it’s indecent, but then Hamilton is moving his tongue slowly and tenderly around the head of his cock, and he can’t bring himself to stop him. He curses himself, knows it’s useless to try to stop it; Hamilton is relentless, and Burr’s hardening cock betrays any meaning the words would have had, anyway.

Hamilton’s lips slide farther along his cock, and Burr tilts his head toward the ceiling, exhaling sharply. His hand is still in Hamilton’s hair, holding his head firmly in place, but Hamilton uses his hands on Burr’s thighs to pull him onto his cock all the same. Burr doesn’t let go. He feels Hamilton pulling against his hand and just clenches it tighter.

Burr looks down. Hamilton is looking up at him, looking into his eyes as he pulls harder against Burr’s grip and farther along his cock. Burr closes his eyes and makes a noise somewhere between a sigh and a curse, and it damns him, gives away whatever his cock already hadn’t. When he opens his eyes and looks back down, Hamilton’s eyes are closed as he bobs slowly along Burr’s cock.

It’s sliding in and out of Hamilton’s mouth and Burr wonders if he’ll ever forget that sight. Hamilton is quiet and methodical; he’s taking his time, and Burr doesn’t know if he’s ever seen him do that. It’s relieving, Burr thinks, to have something in his mouth, to shut him up. If Burr had known this is all it would take…

He tightens the fist in Hamilton’s hair and pulls back, and Hamilton’s mouth slides off his cock. Hamilton’s eyes shoot open and look up at Burr, and Burr holds his grip. Hamilton starts pulling again, straining, and his tongue is visible, oh God --

Burr can’t help it. He pushes his fist forward, Hamilton’s head with it, sliding it onto his cock. He can hear Hamilton choke with surprise, he doesn’t care. He thinks of all the times Hamilton seems to get one up on him, but not here -- here Burr is in control, and he knows what he wants.

He pushes and pulls Hamilton’s head along his cock and Hamilton goes slack, letting himself be moved. His nails are digging into the back of Burr’s thighs, and Hamilton is quiet, Hamilton is pliant, Hamilton is on his knees and Burr is standing over him, in control --

His other hand jerks up and joins the one in Hamilton’s hair and holds Hamilton’s head where it is, far along his cock, as Burr feels himself come, his knees going weak, struggling to remain standing. Hamilton stays where he is, licking at the underside of his cock almost dutifully. Burr keeps him there as he catches his breath, before releasing his grip in Hamilton’s hair and stepping back.

He stares at Hamilton for a moment as Hamilton wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. It is both the best and the worst thing Burr has ever seen. He pulls his pants back up, buttoning them, as Hamilton gets to his feet.

“Go home, Hamilton,” he manages to say, and it feels good.

“Will you help us now?” Hamilton says.

“No,” Burr says, and the look on Hamilton’s face is too much for him. He has Hamilton here, he’s holding the power, and Hamilton just --

And what kind of man would Burr be if this was all it took to change his mind?

“Go home,” Burr repeats.

For once, Hamilton listens.

**Author's Note:**

> lmao as of april 2016 this is officially not anon anymore
> 
> sorry friends /o\


End file.
